Demon's Mark
by Teague-Drydan
Summary: Ghayle was kicked out of her country because if it. Can she make a life for herself in another? Rated because of some slight violence and other behaviour.


I wrote this mainly because I have a very noticable port wine stain on my forehead--for those who don't know, it's a type of birthmark. I wrote Lackey, but received a nice little e-mail from Terri Lee,I think, saying that Lackey is no loger taking questions about Valdemar--she's taking a break. So, if you feel that this story is way out of porportion, please let me know. I wasn't sure as to how this story would be...recieved, but whatcamacallme suggested it upload it. So, without further ado...

Ah...hehe..forgot. Don't own anything except for my OCs.

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**Ghayle**

I cringed and ducked the balled fist that was swooping towards my head, and slipped on some slick grass. "I—ma'am—plea—"

"No talk from ye, ye demon's brat!" The lady interrupted me. "Ye said that ye was a good, strong, _whole_ worker, not a sniveling, lil' demon's brood-child!" The Woman sneered; her foot snuck out and caught me in the ribs. "Ye get away from my family and farm, cursed abomination of a chit."

She continued to kick and hit at me as I slowly crept away from her, favoring my right side, where she had gotten me good. Once I was well down the road from her small home, the lady stopped her abuse and calmly walked back to her house. Discouraged and deflated I hung my head and slipped into the forest that lined the trees. I still needed to get my few things, namely my hat that had hidden the mark on my face until this afternoon.

Finding a safe place to wait, I sank into the grass and thought about this afternoon's events.

_After carrying bucketfuls of water to the house and feeding the chickens, the horse and the oxen, it was well after the time I usually stopped for my noon meal. So, grabbing a pail of water and some old, almost moldy bread and I sat under their tall tree. I guess I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I knew, Ma'am was yelling from the back porch of the small house. "Girl! Girl! Get up off of your fanny and get back to work!" She dusted some dust from her long skirts. "'Sides I need your help in the kitchen." Without thinking, I hopped up and ran to the house, my light brown hair streaming behind and my long bangs getting in my eyes. While I was sleeping, my hat must have fallen off without my realizing it. I walked into the kitchen and Ma'am started tearing into me once she saw my face._

Sunlight flooded into my eyes. I had fallen asleep, again. I crept to the edge of the forest that was closest to the chicken coop—my 'room'. Once the sun had fully set, I knew that no one would be leaving the house. Ma'am and Sir were both afraid of demons and the dark. I stealthily walked to the coop, and opened the door. The chickens no longer clucked and squawked when I bugged them. I spied my things—a blanket roll and one change of tunics. Once I had reclaimed my things, I ran to the tree, found my hat and set off down the road.

Some people that I had worked for (and that number was quite high), were so afraid and paralyzed of the dark, they were amazed that I was so comfortable in it. It wasn't until they kicked me out that they realized why—or thought they knew why. Many people saw my mark as a sign that I was a demon's child or that I consorted with demons or the like.

Little did they know I knew as much about summoning demons as I knew about how build a bridge—and I planned to keep the demon-summoning-thing that way.

The reason I liked the night was because people weren't out and crowding around me. And the night air was cool and refreshing, at least in fall and early spring when the days are pleasantly warm.

Walking down the deserted road gave me time to think. I needed to find someone who would take me in, but I couldn't stay close to here, word would get around. Even though the night was enjoyable, I frowned. _I guess I'll need to hitch a ride with some 'foreign' farmer. Some who doesn't know these woods—or people._ With the night birds and owls softly calling out in a sort of night-time song, I started to get sleepy. _Wake up, you idiot! You can't sleep here; it's to close to Ma'am and Sir's farm. I have to reach at least the half-way of this road before the moon sets_; I stifled a yawn, _man, that's a long time away._ To get my thoughts off of how long I'd have to walk, I concentrated on just putting on foot in front of the other.

It was a full moon night, which I was thankful for, but it was also cloudy, causing odd shadows to form on the sides of the road. I've never really been in for superstitions, but the catcalls of the birds had me jumping before too long, which was odd, because night was usually my element. To top it off, I thought I kept hearing whispering, snatches of conversation, in the forests close to the road as well. A small light also seemed to be following me in the darkness of the forest.

I tried to ignore the spookiness of the road by concentrating even more on putting one foot in front of the other, but didn't succeed very well. Perhaps that was why I was caught. Or maybe the bandits were just better at seizing people than I was at avoiding people. Or maybe I was sorer than I thought. Whatever the reason was, within seconds of the men bursting from the trees, I was caught and tied securely to a nearby tree.

The men seemed happy with me just tied to the tree, for which I was grateful, because they then lit a fire and began trading jokes, I think, in some weird language. As the men sat around the fire, I studied them.

The man who acted like their ringleader, whom I dubbed 'Crag', was tallish with a great thatching of what appeared to graying blond hair. I couldn't tell what color his eyes were, but they were sunken deep, either from deep pain or from starvation. He had a ratty beard growing from his ears to under his bulbous nose and under his crag of mouth. He was dressed in well-kept rags, which wouldn't do much to keep him warm this winter. His shoulders also strained against the fabric. He seemed to laugh a lot at who I guessed was his second-in-command.

The second-in-command, 'Trail' seemed like a good name because was always trailing what Crag did with his bugging eyes. Trail's nose was straight and too thin for his broad face, and directly underneath the nose was a mouth that was too big, and filled with rotting teeth. His hair was either dark brown or black and hung loose in strands down past his elbows. He was clothed in much nicer-looking clothes but they had also seen a lot of wear and tear and hung loosely over his thin frame.

The third, and last, man I decided to call Dan, short for 'danger'. He kept looking at me with a hunger in his eyes that I had seen before. He was the best-dressed of the small gang, with cloths that only had holes in them where they were supposed to be and fit nicely over his short and muscular frame, though he did have a bit of a pot-belly. His hair was so closely shaven, that it was just light colored fuzz. He had no beard or mustache and this skin was a nice tan instead of the sickly white or yellow the other two displayed. He was sitting directly across from me with Crag on his right and Trail on his left. I, of course, was behind and between Crag and Trail.

Though I was tied securely to the tree, if given the chance, I thought I could wiggle out of the bindings, providing my injuries did prevent me.

The gang had left my stuff close by the tree, in which I had a small knife. I also still had my hat on, which was practically jammed down over my eyes. _Thank whatever God is listening for _that_ small favor._

The moon had moved across a quarter of the sky already, and the men were still going strong in their weird language. I thought I was being ignored until one of the men, Trail, looked at me and said, "What's yer name, kid?"

Surprised, I was speechless for a moment. Trail didn't have any sort of accent that I could detect. "Ghayle," I replied grudgingly and suspiciously. _Why would they want my name? I'm nothing but an outcast._

Trail nodded then said something in the other language. Dan replied, given me a good look-over then said something to Trail, who then said, "How old'er ye and where ye from?"

Now more uneasy and beginning to get scared, I replied softly, "Don't know and I'm from nowhere, now. Never was from anywhere that I know of." When Dan heard what Trail said, I think Trail was—uh—translating?—for Dan and Crag, he smiled real big and said something back to Trail, his voice was higher and full of excitement.

"Ye going anywhere in particular? Anyone expecting you?" Trail queried.

Really frightened now, I tried to lie, "Yes, my old Unca Kramer in the next town o'er."

"You lie," Trail raised his hand to slap me, but Dan made a quick grab and caught Trail's hand before he even started the forward-motion needed to slap me. Trail was slapped by Crag instead. After that, there were no more questions and the men started bedding down for the night, not even assigning guards. The moon was another quarter of the way down the sky. Half the night was over.

When all the men were finally sound asleep, another quarter for the moon, I started to wiggle out of the ropes holding me captive. The fire had die down and was casting shadows all over the little clearing. A light wind had also struck up, rustling the dried leaves that were left. It only took me a while to slip under the ropes and my hurts didn't bug me too much. Grabbing my bag of things, I struck out for the next town, running the first leg to get as far away from the men as I could.

Over the next few weeks, I kept hearing the weird language more and more. I was now able to pick out and say a few words, mainly enough to get basic points across. These people were a bit more lenient towards my mark, but there were a few people who still wouldn't let me work for anything. No one ever ran me out of town kicking and hitting me, though, and that was a bonus for these weird people.

I did seem to be seeing some sort of weird tradition or event among these people. Every so often, a man in white would ride up on a white horse; stay around for a couple of days and then leave. The town people actually looked forward to the man's arrival and all but celebrated his return, though it was hardly ever the same man twice in a row.

It wasn't until I had a better grasp of the language that I realized that this man was some sort of official who also acted as judge, a clergyman, and various other things. On occasion he would be used as a sort of messenger from the Queen—or was it King?—and announce any new laws that had been put into effect while the last man had been gone.

Months after my arrival to the town of Cordor, the old lady I was working for, Suzy Henson, invited me into her house. This, in itself, was a bit unusual, though I had done quite of few in-door jobs for her.

"Ghayle," the old lady began, her white hair falling out of her tightly wrapped bun, "have you ever had any real schooling?"

Confused as to why she was asking, I truthfully replied (I had found out a few weeks ago, that Suzy didn't take any stock in falsities), "Not that I know of, ma'am."

"Would you like to start learning some things?" Suzy asked, concern and wistfulness clouding her clear green eyes. My eyes must have gotten real big, because she didn't wait for a reply, just ploughed on saying, "We'll start tomorrow morning." She paused for a moment, as if thinking something over, then, making up her mind: "Do you have any other clothes, Ghayle? And do you know about cleanliness?" The expression on her old and laugh-lined face was comical, as if she couldn't believe she was saying this, but couldn't help it anyway.

"No more clothes, ma'am. But I would like a good rinsing every so often. The pail of water I have everyday is mainly used for drinking," I replied, truly wishing for a good washing.

"I'll see about getting you some more clothes this afternoon, and you can use my copper tub to wash in tonight." Suzy responded, and then stood up, "Meanwhile, why don't you pull weeds in the garden—that way we'll get the dirty chores done before your bath." Taking the dismissal fro what it was, I gaily waltzed out of the house, being careful not leave too much muck, and started on the garden.

My lessons were going well, though I think I surprised Suzy with how I had counted before I knew what numbers were. I still smile at that memory.

"How have you been counting, things, if you didn't know your numbers?" she asked one morning during a 'math' lesson.

"Well," I replied, "I hold out one finger for every thing, once all my fingers are out on my right hand, I hold out one finger on my left hand and continue on until all my fingers are used, or the things are done being counted. If there are still more than I can fit on one hand, then I say 'there were this many (holding out my left hand) of these many fingers plus too many more.'" Suzy seemed amazed at my method of counting and even said she thought that that was a good way to count if I didn't know the numbers or what they meant.

I was even learning my letters, so that I could get a lot more things at one time that we needed for the house. I already knew the alphabet and simple words like 'apple' and 'food'. Suzy said that soon, I might be able to read easy books. My writing was not so good, though, I can barely shape a simple letter like 'S', but Suzy kept encouraging me, saying it took her longer to write than to read too.

My life at Cordor was a lot different from my early life. Suzy's letting me sleep on the floor by the fire at nights when it's too cold to be outside anyways and she lets wash in the copper tub three times a week. She's even teaching me how to cook easy things like soup and mulled cider (which I don't really like, but drink it anyway to please Suzy).

In my way of thinking, life couldn't get any better, and that life would stay like this for a long time.

The day was a typical early winter day; clouded over with a cold drizzle. I was headed to Mrs. Smith's house to get some sugar for Suzy. Mrs. Smith was waiting by her door for someone else, but gladly welcomed me in out of the cold rain.

"How have you been, Ghayle?" She asked, rummaging around her cupboard for her sugar.

"I've been doing fine, ma'am. Miss Suzy gave me some new clothes so I'm warmer this winter than I've ever been. Thank you for asking. How are you doing?" I replied, making certain that I was polite. Mrs. Smith hated impolite people.

"Why thank you, Ghayle. I'm doing fair. John's been working in the forge non-stop for days on end, now. He's working on some project for the Mayor, Mr. Verstinor. You don't happen to know what it is, do you?" I could almost hear the rest of the sentence, _since you're so shifty_. I merely shook my head 'no', thanked her for the sugar and left.

I was minding my own business, when I noticed Billy Greisens was shadowing me, along with his two bully-friends, Sham and Luther. I ignored them like I usually did, after all, what are they going to do to me in town? I kept walking, but also kept an eye on them, a sort of kick-back from when I was, what some people called, a 'street-rat'.

I guess my skills had been slipped some since I last had to fight to keep myself a live, because the next moment I felt one of the boys, Sham, I think, colliding into my side. In seconds, the three boys had me trapped against a wall and were talking amongst themselves as to what they would do to me. Billy was in favor of a few 'bed games', but Sham and Luther just wanted to give me "a good beatin' and run 'er outta town." After a few more minutes of arguing, Luther and Sham prevailed. Billy attacked me first, slamming his fist into my stomach, hard enough for me to vomit, and then followed that with a punch to my cheek while I was bent over.

After that punch, I lost track of what happened, I only know that I managed to scrabble out of the small alley and half-run, half-stumble down the main street, which was a deserted as a church day morning. I was vaguely aware of some muffled hoof beats I managed to hear in a brief lull when my head was pressed to the street. The sugar had long since been lost.

After awhile, I noticed that only one set of hands and feet were hitting me. Then I realized that someone had pulled the other two boys off and was attempting to pull the third one off as well. After a few more minutes, I realized that no one was beating me anymore. Carefully, I darted up, glanced wildly around and then started running as fast as I could towards Suzy's home.

I didn't get very far because one of my legs was seemingly broken and I had also run smack-dab into the man who rode the white horse and wore white as well.

"Easy. Its okay, honey. Easy. Those boys won't hurt you now," the man said to my half-deaf ears.

Looking around wildly, I realized that the whole town had assembled and were gawking at me. The hat that I usually wore, had fallen off, and my witch's mark was standing out like a sore thumb. I quickly covered my face and prepared for more blows. I flinched as the man laid a hand on my shoulder. "I need a healer—you, girl, get you village healer, or whatever passes for one. NOW!" The man demanded, then, more quietly and only to me, "it's okay, honey, I'll protect you from everybody. Calm down, the healer's coming; I can see him now."

I carefully peaked between my fingers and did see old Galen coming through the parting crowd.

"Herald! What can I—are you okay Ghayle? Come, can you walk? No? Ah, Herald, would you mind…?" old Galen said, then strode off towards someone's home, Suzy's I soon found out, in the Herald's arms.

Suzy opened the door quickly when she saw Galen coming her way and stared, a little surprised to see the man in white carrying me.

I was laid on the table; I couldn't have sat if I had tried. I saw Suzy and the man Galen called 'Herald' talking together. Galen put me into a trance, and I thankfully blacked out soon afterward.

**The Herald**

"Who is that girl?" I asked the old lady in whose house the healer had walked into.

"She's my little worker. She came here about a year ago from the southwest. She claimed to be called 'Ghayle', and so I did. Her command of our language is much better now, though still lacking. I was teaching her in exchange for some light work she did around the house. I didn't know that she had enemies here, though I did know she had that mark on her forehead…I'm babbling, I know. Is she—is she going to be alright?"

"Ma'am, I think she will be." I was quiet for a moment, then said, "I'm sure your…attached to the girl, but I also think that she may feel like she fits in better at Haven; would you mind I if took her there with me?"

"I—I—will she be _safe_ there? No one will beat her or do anything' to her?" The woman asked worriedly.

"Yes, she'll be safe. I'll see if I can't get enrolled at one of the collegiums, and also a job at the palace, if she's so inclined," I paused, "my family may be willing to take her in, if all else fails, and—they're very loving. My mother has 'adopted' many poor children from off the street and raised them. She'd have other children there that are from similar circumstances."

"Then—yes. Take her. But—let me tell her, please?" The woman asked. I got the feeling that she genuinely cared for the little girl. I nodded yes just as the healer raised his head from his work.

"She'll be fine. She had a broken arm and leg. I managed to heal most of the break, but she'll have to heal the natural way now. She also has a lot of bruising and a little bit of internal bleeding—that is all healed now. A few days rest and she'll be able to move around fine. Keep her quiet and watch her. She may decide to run, if I read her type right." The Healer told us, "now, if you will excuse me…?" And then he left. I followed him out to discharge my Heraldic duties. One of which was to get to the bottom of why the boys were beating Ghayle.

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"…so _why_ did you do it?" I asked for the thousandth time. These boys were really just bullies. I rubbed my temples. This was the last duty I had for today and I had a headache.

"It was Billy's idea." One of the boys—Luther, I think—replied. "But he said we would only rough her up a bit. To let her know we didn't want her here." He swallowed hard and looked at Billy, who I assumed was the leader of the threesome.

"Only, at first he wanted to-to-" the other boy said, Sham, I think, blushing, but was cut off by Billy.

"It wasn't my idea. Luther was for it."

"No I wasn't—it's your fault we're in this mess. If we'd have just left her alone like I had _wanted_ to do, we wouldn't be in this mess."

"Wait. Back up. _What_ was some one wanting to do?" I interrupted the little quarrel.

It took a few moments before one of them spoke up. Luther spoke up first. "_Billy_ wanted to—you know." At my blank look, he was forced to continue, though I had a very good hunch as what Billy had wanted to do. "Billy wanted to…receive unwilling favors from her," he jerked his head in the direction of Suzy's house.

"He tried to rape her?" I asked, clarifying it for anyone who was still puzzling it out. "Why, Billy?"

"I-you-I-" he stammered. After swallowing hard, he continued coherently, "Because I can. And she's the only one who'd give me what I want. 'Sides, she's from Karse. They don' deserve no respect, or nothing. She also has a demon-mark. Those with demon-mark are cursed. Everyone knows that."

I sighed. These boys were only, what, fifteen? Sixteen? One of them would be charged for attempted rape, and assault. The other two will be charged with assault, maybe more. _I don't want to deal with this…_

**Ghayle**

My head felt muzzy and I was sore all over. I lay still as I took account of my abused body. I was laying on my side facing the wall. My ribs were bandaged, as were my arm and leg. My right elbow wouldn't flex and I assumed that it was broken, and my left leg was very awkward. I softly groaned as I rolled onto my back, being mindful of my sore ribs. My right arm, I left across my chest. Miss Suzy was asleep in her straight-backed wooden chair with a blanket across her shoulders and lap.

"Miz Suzy? Miz Suzy? I-" I began, but she interrupted me once she realized who was talking to her.

"Thank the Lord you're all right, Ghayle! I was so worried. Don't worry about the boys who did this to you—Herald Cody is taking care of them." Miss Suzy smiled, it seemed to light up her face for a moment, and then it faded. "I've asked Herald Cody to take you to Haven. That's where all of the people who are Chosen live. They'll help you find a job and keep you safe." She looked at her lap, "Ghayle, I-"

"You-you don't want me anymore?" I couldn't keep the slight quiver out of my voice. She was the only person I had been able to _trust_ for a long time.

"Oh, Ghayle!" she stiffly got up and, walking over to me, gently pulled me into a hug. "I always want you. You're like the daughter I never had, sweetie. It's just—just that I want you to be _safe_. If you aren't safe in Haven, then you'll never be safe, no matter what anybody says or does. If you _ever_ need anything, just send me a letter and let me know. Maybe we'll be able to visit each other every so often." She paused. The silence stretched between us like spilled milk on a wooden table. Miss Suzy then continued softly, almost whispering, "Herald Cody leaves in two days. We have until then to get you healed and ready to go."

I nodded. I didn't _want_ to leave, but after what Billy and his buddies tried to do today, I knew no here would accept me, except for Miss Suzy, and I could hardly expect her to either keep me safe, or to uproot herself and move somewhere else. I had to move on, just like always.

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Thank you for reading this story. It may seem like a pretty pathetic attempt, but it's what i wrote... 

Please let me know what you think. I currently have have a writer's block on this story, so it may be a while before any, if any more, chapters get uploaded.

Thanks!

Kyn!


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